


The Grim Adventures of Luke and Michael

by flowercrownclem



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Adventure, Fluff, Grim Reapers, Happy Ending, Luke's dad is a dick, M/M, Michael dies but like, Reaper!Luke, Soulmates, mortal Michael, slightly excessive cursing at times, some slight allusions to greek mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-18 06:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7304149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowercrownclem/pseuds/flowercrownclem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m sorry,” the boy said earnestly. “I’m really, really sorry. I promise it was an accident!”</p><p>“What was an accident?” Michael asked, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>“Shit,” the boy muttered, starting to pace in front of Michael. “My dad’s gonna kill me! Shit shit shit! He can’t find out! Oh god, how do you hide that, though? It’s not as simple as hiding a body. Shit, he’s really gonna kill me. Like, he’s literally going to kill me for this!”</p><p>“Wait,” Michael said. “Slow the fuck down! What the fuck is happening?! What did you do?”</p><p>“I killed you.”</p><p> </p><p>In which Luke is a Grim Reaper who's terrible at his job and Michael isn't very happy to have his soul stolen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Killed You

Michael could barely breathe, the air was so thick with smoke and sweat. If he didn’t know any better he’d have thought he was in some tropical rainforest with how thick and muggy the air felt, making his hair stick to his forehead and his t-shirt cling to his back. He wiped a hand over his face, trying to wick some of the sweat away from his eyes as he blearily felt through the crowd around him. The band he’d gone to see had finished their set and Michael was exhausted from dancing and from the heat that seemed to press against him on all sides. He looked up towards the exit to try and gauge his path to freedom when a dark silhouette caught his eye.

Sitting at the bar, backlit by neon signs, was a lanky figure draped in black fabric. A long hood hung over their face and Michael craned his neck as he was jostled by the crowd around him to try and get a better look. At a show like this there were bound to be all kinds of kids dressed up in the finest oddities, but something about the hooded figure seemed wrong and out of place. Where the colored lights around them should have reflected even onto the black of the figure’s cloak there were only pitch black shadows.

Then, as suddenly as Michael had noticed the figure, it slid off of the barstool and slipped fluidly through the door and out onto the street.

Michael had made no conscious decision but his feet were quick to react, moving swiftly to follow the retreating figure. He flung himself forward through the crowd, shoving people aside roughly as he darted towards the exit, relishing in the waves of cool fresh air that poured through the open door. He gulped in greedy lungfuls of the air as he burst onto the street, only just seeing the end of a black cloak disappearing around a corner to his right. Michael didn’t hesitate as he ran after the movement with no plan of what he’d do if he happened to catch up with the mysterious figure.

As he turned the corner he was engulfed in the shadows of a dingy alleyway, the air turning musky and thick with the lingering grime of garbage. He hurtled forward after the rippling mass of black fabric that followed the gliding figure and reached out his hand to grasp at its sleeve. Michael yanked his hand back to bring the figure to a momentary halt and gasped.

Beneath his fingertips he felt not the soft give of flesh but the brittle unyielding chill of bone. Through the darkness he could make out the pale spidery fingers clutched within his own and he jerked back in shock.

He glanced up at the face of the figure and through the shadow of the hood he could see deep-set craters where eyes should be and a gaping grin of a mouth. It was as Michael’s mouth opened, yet before his lungs could draw breath enough for a scream, that the blade entered his back.

...

When Michael woke up he felt as though he’d been laying in a freezer all night. His limbs felt stiff and heavy but his head felt light and hazy. He stood slowly, his eyes adjusting to the bright morning light as his ears filled with the bustling sounds of cars on the busy street at the end of the alley. He stumbled towards the street, his mind reeling over what had happened to make him wake up alone in an alley when he couldn’t remember drinking at all the night before.

He couldn’t remember much of anything from the night before.

Michael ambled down the sidewalk, his disheveled appearance ignored by the few pedestrians that were out so early in the morning. When he finally arrived at the small flat he shared with his best friend Calum he was awash in relief, looking forward to a hot shower and a fresh change of clothes. He felt in his pocket for his keys and his face fell as he realized that all of his pockets were empty.

_ Shit _ , he thought.  _ I must have been mugged last night _ .

He groaned, blinking back frustrated tears and knocking on the door. He leaned against the doorframe and listened to the faint sound of Calum walking towards the door.

“Thanks man,” Michael sighed gratefully as the door swung open. “Sorry I didn’t come home last night, you must have been-”

Michael cut off when he saw the furrow in Calum’s brow as his eyes swept through the hallway, sliding right past Michael.

“Cal?” Michael asked. “You okay?”

Calum didn’t answer. He just shook his head a bit and then the door started to swing shut.

“Cal!” Michael exclaimed, darting forward to slip into the flat just as the door closed. “What the fuck, man?”

Still, Calum didn’t reply, only turning around to walk back towards his room.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment again or something?” Michael demanded, following him. “I know you were probably worried when I didn’t call you or anything last night but I think I got mugged or some shit!”

Calum’s bedroom door closed in his face and when he tried to turn the knob it stayed in place.

“Is it something else?” he shouted, steadily growing towards hysterics. “Calum, please! I just woke up in some alley and I don’t know what happened and I’m kind of freaking out here, man! Please, I really need you to talk to me.”

He knocked on Calum’s door again, still pleading for him to talk to him.

“Michael?” He heard from inside the room and suddenly Calum was back, the door pulled open swiftly.

“Michael?” Calum repeated uncertainly.

“Yeah, yeah it’s me,” Michael said. “Thank god, Calum, I’m - Calum, what are you doing?”

Calum was muttering something under his breath, reaching in his pocket and pulling out his phone. Michael watched curiously when Calum held the phone to his ear, tapping his foot nervously.

“Michael,” he spoke tersely into the phone after a moment. “Dude, where are you? I’ve been waiting all night and I’m worried sick. Pick up your damn phone. Call me, please.”

“Cal?” Michael said softly. “What - I-I’m right here.”

Calum sighed, slumping down on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.

“Calum,” Michael pleaded, flinging himself on the bed beside his best friend, trying to stop the panic building in his chest. “Why won’t you look at me?”

“Calum,” he begged, sliding down to the floor at Calum’s feet, desperate to meet his eyes. “Please, I-I’m scared.”

Michael didn’t know how long he sat there praying that Calum would suddenly look up and start laughing, telling him it was all a joke and that he couldn’t believe Michael had fallen for it. Instead Calum’s head hung low and he continued to call Michael’s phone with no answer, his messages getting more and more desperate.

“Michael, I swear I’m gonna kill you,” Calum muttered into his phone some time after the sun had begun to set. “Please, just come home.”

“I am home,” Michael whispered, his voice hoarse from screaming those same words over and over earlier in the day.

“Please be okay,” Calum pleaded quietly, having already hung up the phone.

Michael watched the tears forming in his best friend’s eyes and felt completely useless as Calum visibly broke down in front of him. He wanted to grip his hands to stop their shaking and to pull Calum to his chest to muffle the sobs that wracked his body, but he could only watch, heartbroken that he had caused this.

Michael stood up roughly, determined to find out what had happened and to fix it.

 

When Michael arrived back at the club he’d been in the night before he felt uneasy. It was strange to walk through a crowd and not make eye contact with a single person. With his brightly colored hair Michael was used to getting his fair share of strange looks when he went out. He usually wished people would  _ stop _ looking at him, but at that moment he wanted nothing more than for one person to look his way.

Michael looked over to the bar and jolted when he saw a familiar figure clad in black. Suddenly a wave of memories from the night before flooded through his brain and he felt his blood boil at the sight of the ghostly figure. Michael clenched his fists and stormed towards the bar.

“What did you do, you fucking asshole!” he shouted manically, his eyes bright with anger. The figure seemed to stiffen, stumbling back over their barstool and staggering towards the exit.

“Get back here, dammit!” Michael yelled, following at a run. Rather than the slow glide the figure had used the night before, it was now making a clumsy, almost desperate retreat. Michael followed it back into the same alley and lunged forward once again to grip the figure’s wrist. This time he was ready for the thin spidery feel of a skeleton-fingered hand but was shocked when his fingers met skin. He could feel a slight tremble in the seemingly human hand in his.

Michael frowned, pulling the black-cloaked body to a rough halt and yanking them around to face him.

“What the fuck?” Michael demanded, peering into the shadows of their hood. “What did you do to me?”

The figure pulled its hand from Michael’s and began to fiddle nervously with their own fingers, shifting from foot to foot. This was not the gracefully intimidating figure Michael remembered from the night before.

“Answer me,” Michael commanded, reaching forward and ripping the hood back from the figure’s head.

Rather than the skeletal face he’d seen before he found a boy who looked maybe even younger than him. Michael’s eyes widened in shock as he took in the boy’s messy blond hair and worried blue eyes. The boy was biting nervously at the black ring through his lower lip and his cheeks were flushed a soft pink.

“I’m sorry,” the boy said earnestly. “I’m really, really sorry. I promise it was an accident!”

“What was an accident?” Michael asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Shit,” the boy muttered, starting to pace in front of Michael. “My dad’s gonna kill me! Shit shit  _ shit _ ! He can’t find out! Oh god, how do you hide that, though? It’s not as simple as hiding a body. Shit, he’s really gonna kill me. Like, he’s literally going to  _ kill me _ for this!”

“Wait,” Michael said. “Slow the fuck down! What the fuck is happening?! What did you do?”

“I killed you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, thank you for reading the first chapter of this! I've got most of it written and I think it'll be around 7 chapters total but I'm not positive. Feel free to leave comments and let me know what you think of it so far and if you need clarification on anything later on because it kind of goes into a whole made up world based vaguely on some greek mythology but also a lot of random stuff that is hopefully explained well enough to understand but yeah... Thank you <3


	2. Welcome to the Underworld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time: Michael was killed in an alley, realized that Calum couldn't see him and followed the grim reaper who lead him to his death, who is less skeletal and more cute-boy than the last time they met.

“What do you mean you killed me?” Michael asked incredulously. “Of course you didn’t, I’m right here. I’m not dead.”

“Yes you are,” the boy said shrinking in on himself. “And I kind of maybe stole your soul, too.”

“You’re crazy,” Michael said, shaking his head and stepping back towards the mouth of the alley. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“I’m not and you know it,” the boy told him sadly. “Why else wouldn’t anybody be able to see you? Why else wouldn’t anybody be able to hear you?”

The boy took a step closer to him and spoke quietly.

“You’re dead. They can’t see you because you’re not a part of this world anymore.”

“Why?” Michael asked after a moment, curling his arms around himself as he tried to understand what had happened. He had felt cold inside all day but it was then that he realized that the frigid feeling seemed to radiate from within him, rather than from the surrounding air. No matter how tightly he clutched his arms to his chest he couldn’t seem to escape the cold, felt not on his skin but in his bones. Even the confused tears that prickled in his eyes felt more like the biting cold of the ocean in the dead of night than the burning heat he’d been used to.

“I’m sorry,” the blond boy said again. “I swear I didn’t mean to. I’m really new at this and I got the names mixed up and this wasn’t supposed to happen! Shit, please don’t tell my dad!”

“What are you talking about?” Michael asked, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve, making the blond boy grimace slightly.

“I’m a Reaper. We’re supposed to collect souls when it’s time for somebody to die, but I fucked up. This was supposed to be my first solo reap and I fucked it up so bad. It’s not my fault there’s some 29 year old guy named Michael Clifton who lives like four blocks away from you who got involved in some dangerous shit! The names were right next to each other on all the lists so when I was supposed to find him I accidentally mixed up your names and, um, here we are?”

“Well how do we fix it?” Michael demanded.

“I’m not so sure about that part,” the boy said, worrying again at his lip. “The reanimation process is weird but it’s not impossible. We’d have to hook your soul back into your body along with your spirit- that’s you _now_ , you know, like your ghost or whatever. We’ve got to put all three back together and then you should be you again - the living and breathing version.”

“Well let’s get them back together,” Michael said, excited to finally have a solution to aim towards. “Let’s grab my body and my soul and let’s go!”

“Well the body part’s easy,” the blond explained. “I’ve got that from last night. It’s the soul part that’s a bit harder.”

“How come?” Michael asked.

“I said earlier: I stole it.”

“Then give it back,” Michael said, holding out his hand expectantly.

“It’s not that easy,” the boy groaned. “Once a soul’s been reaped I’m not in possession of it anymore.”

“Where does it go then?” Michael asked, frowning.

“I don’t know,” he whined, looking forlorn. “I told you, I’m really fucking new at this! God, my dad’s gonna be so fucking pissed! He’s the head fucking Reaper, did you know? I’m the son of the head fucking Reaper and I can’t even reap one fucking soul without fucking it all up!”

“I’m... sorry?”

“Thanks,” the boy said, taking a deep breathe offering a small smile. “I’m Luke by the way.”

“That short for anything?”

“Yes,” Luke bit out. “It’s... It's short for goddam Lucifer. God, I  _ hate _ my fucking dad.”

Michael couldn’t help the stream of giggles that erupted from his mouth.

“Your name,” he choked out, “is fucking  _ Lucifer _ ?”

“Shut up!” Luke pouted, trying to hold back his own laughter. “It’s not fucking funny!”

“It’s pretty fucking funny,” Michael told him with a weak smile. “I’m Michael.”

“I already know that,” Luke pointed out. “Your name’s what got us into this mess in the first place, remember?”

“Oh, right,” Michael said, his face falling as he was brought back to the situation at hand. “So what do we do now?”

“You should probably come home with me,” Luke said. “It’ll be easier to keep you hidden there; my dad is usually too busy to check in on me so he won’t see you if you stay in my room.”

“Okay,” Michael nodded, a bit saddened by Luke’s words. Although it was convenient, he didn’t like how sure Luke was that his father wouldn’t come anywhere near him. 

“C’mon,” Luke said, retreating further into the shadows of the alley and feeling along the rust colored bricks before crouching down to where they met the grimy concrete under their feet. Michael grimaced at the sight of the other boy crawling in the filth.

Luke looked expectantly up at him until Michael reluctantly crouched down beside him. When he got closer to the wall he could see that a few feet of brick along the bottom looked hazy and translucent, more like a projection than a solid piece of building. Without any warning Luke ducked his head swiftly through the illusion and crawled on hands and knees until he disappeared. When Michael didn’t follow he heard a slightly muffled “Come on!” from the other side.

“This is some Harry Potter shit,” he muttered, shaking his head and crouching down further to duck through the opening in the wall and shuffling forward until he was engulfed in darkness. He could almost see a vague shadowy outline of Luke crouched down in front of him and he could hear his breathing. He felt thin dusty fingers brush over first his shoulders then his cheeks before Luke was essentially cradling his face in his hands.

“Hi,” Luke said, a smile evident in his voice.

“Hi?” Michael replied, his cheeks heating under Luke’s fingers.

“Follow me,” Luke instructed before turning around and continuing to crawl through what seemed to be a stone-walled tunnel at a slow decline. As they crawled the tunnel seemed to grow wider and taller, as well as gradually lighter. Michael followed first the sound of Luke’s knees shuffling along the ground then the sound of his footsteps as he hunched over in front of him, then finally he could follow by the dim light coming from the end of the tunnel. Michael coughed when a cloud of dust billowed up through the air and into his lungs. His coughing echoed through the tunnel and bounced off of the walls, bringing Luke to a worried stop.

“We’re almost there,” Luke promised, his eyes concerned even in the low light. He reached back for Michael’s hand and pulled him along behind him until they came to another break in the stone walls, concealed as the entrance to the tunnel had been in the alley. Luke kept Michael’s hand in his as he stepped through the simulated stone and into a larger space, filled with fluorescent lights. It took Michael’s eyes a moment to adjust after so long of straining to see in the darkened tunnel, but when his vision cleared he was met with what looked like the lobby of a hotel used by businessmen, or the waiting room of a high end plastic surgery office.

The walls were sparkling white and the floor a dark shining tile, reflecting the frosted glass light fixtures and the classic - and most likely original - paintings hung like trophies on the walls. Light classical music played through the room and there was even a large mahogany reception desk against one wall, partially concealing a boy around their age who was shroud in a similar cloak to Luke’s.

“Hey, Ash,” Luke greeted the boy who looked up from the book on his desk with a cheery smile.

“Luke!” the boy grinned, his hood slipping back enough to allow a few honey-colored curls to escape onto his forehead. “How’d the solo reap go?”

“Uh, it was fine,” Luke said nervously, inching towards one of the silvery elevator doors that sat on either side of the reception desk. “Have you seen my dad lately?”

“He passed through like 20 minutes ago,” Ashton told them. “He was heading out for the night, I think.”

“Okay, yeah. Cool,” Luke nodded, pulling Michael with him by the hand. “I’ve gotta go, see you later.”

“Okay, have fun with the boy,” Ashton told him with a wink, nodding conspicuously towards Michael.

“Oh, I- um, we,” Luke sputtered, his cheeks going pink. “Could you not tell my dad, please?”

“My lips are sealed,” Ashton giggled, going back to his book.

Luke gave a sigh of relief and tugged Michael quickly into the elevator, releasing his hand once the doors slid shut. They stood in silence as the elevator rose up higher and higher until finally they were at the highest level listed near the ceiling. Luke ushered them out into another bright hallway when the doors parted, leading Michael down the hall to a heavy looking door in the same mahogany as Ashton’s desk in the lobby. Luke pulled a small brass key from the folds of his robes and unlocked the door which opened without a sound.

As he stepped through the door Luke’s demeanor became much more relaxed, his eyes turning sleepy and his posture slumping easily. Michael followed, looking around at the spacious penthouse apartment. The floors and walls were both a clean white but all of the furniture and fixtures contrasted with smooth black. A long black couch stretched across the room in front of a large wall-mounted TV and gaming system. Beside the door stood a unit of shelves housing what looked to be a few hundred vinyl records and a boxy record player. Michael brushed his fingers over the records curiously before turning back to take in the giant floor-to-ceiling window that took the place of the far wall.

Michael walked past Luke who was shedding his black robe to reveal black skinny jeans and a Green Day t-shirt underneath, along with black Vans that Michael hadn’t noticed under the hem of the robe. He moved forward until his nose was nearly pressed against the glass of the window and looked out in awe.

Spread out below them laid an entire cityscape, lit with artificial light and bustling just the same as any other. It was as if a whole town had sunk underground and continued on with life as normal, unphased by the change of scenery.

By his reflection in the window Michael could see Luke slump onto the couch behind him, his feet resting against the sleek coffee table beside him.

“So,” Luke said, stretching his arms behind his head. “Welcome to the Underworld.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I meant to post this chapter earlier in the day but band practice ran late. Still planning on posting a chapter a day though!  
> Around here is when all of the details of Luke's world start to come into play so let me know what you think and if anything needs more clarification! Also I'm still low-key cringing at Luke being short of Lucifer but, like, it fits in the context :/  
> Thanks for reading! <3


	3. First Night in the Underworld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last time: Michael followed Luke back to the Underworld to hide out in his apartment and hopefully find a way to get his soul back.

“What do you do around here?” Michael asked later that night, once the artificial lights outside the window had begun the dim and he and Luke were curled up on the couch with game controllers cradled in their hands. Michael had figured by then that the lights in the Underworld mirrored the sunlight above ground, illuminating the city once the sun had set and going dark during the day. The Underworld dwellers seemed to be mostly nocturnal as they did most of their reaping at night. Although he was exhausted from his very long day, staying up to play video games all night was familiar territory for Michael and it was comforting in his strange surroundings.

“I dunno,” Luke shrugged, his eyes still on the screen before them. “I just turned 18 so now I don’t have to but I used to go to Reaper school where they teach you how to take souls and stuff. Anyone who’s gonna be a Reaper has to go to school when they turn 14.”

“I mean, like, non-school stuff,” Michael clarified.

“Oh,” Luke frowned. “That. Well, I’ve got monthly dinners with my dad so he can make sure I’m on the right path or whatever, and then-”

“Wait,  _ monthly _ ?” Michael asked, a concerned furrow in his brow.

“Yeah,” Luke nodded. “It’s usually the only time I see him so it’s nice to have a schedule in place.”

“You only see your dad once a month?” Michael explicated. “Doesn’t he live here?”

“Not in this apartment,” Luke explained, the game now paused so he could turn fully towards Michael. “He got me this when I started school so that I could focus on my studies.”

“You’ve been living alone since you were 14?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Luke said, looking down at his hands and nervously fiddling with the controller still in his lap. “But, um, yeah. He’s busy a lot so he said it’d be easier for both of us if we were just kinda... separate.”

“Who do you hang out with then?” Michael asked, still full of concern for the boy who had killed him just the night before.

“I talk to Ashton at the front desk sometimes,” Luke told him, smiling weakly. “But my dad said I can’t do that too much anymore cause I was distracting him from his job.”

“Your dad sounds like kind of a dick,” Michael said unapologetically.

“He’s just... busy,” Luke said lamely. He wanted to argue for his father’s sake but couldn’t think of a proper counter argument and left it at that.

“Okay,” Michael said, not seeming to be appeased but willing to offer a change of subject if it would make Luke more comfortable. “So Ashton’s not a Reaper?”

“Not by employment, he’s not,” Luke explained. “We’re all Reapers down here but not everyone actually goes out and does the reaping. It’s kind of like how humans were all hunter-gatherers at first but now most of you have different jobs. A good amount of us are  _ Reaper _ -Reapers and the rest do odd jobs to keep the city running. Ash works for my dad doing paperwork and watching over this building. There’s lot’s of different jobs, reaping’s just the most popular.”

“Did you always want to be a Reaper?” Michael asked, leaning back into the couch as his eyes began to grow heavy with the number of hours he’d been awake.

“I dunno,” Luke shrugged. “I’m not very good at it - you of all people should know that - but I always knew I’d go into it. There’s kind of a status that comes with the job, which is cool I guess, but I never really cared that much about it. If my dad wasn’t who he is I don’t know what I’d want to do. I always liked music, though - the music from your world. We don’t really have music down here but I’ve been collecting stuff over the years.”

“The records,” Michael nodded, glancing towards the shelves on the adjacent wall.

“Yeah, it’s a good thing my dad never comes in here or he’d probably make me get rid of them. He doesn’t really like stuff from your world, says it’s no use to us if it’s not a soul. I think your world’s neat. I think that’s what makes reaping kind of okay, that I get to go up there a lot. I liked following you last night because you went to that music room-”

“The club?” Michael asked.

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, his eyes wistful. “And the band played and you danced. I wish I could do that.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Michael said, leaning forward. “If we get me back to living and breathing order, I’ll take you back there and you can dance all you want.”

“Really?” Luke asked, wide-eyed.

“Yeah,” Michael promised, holding out his hand to shake Luke’s. Luke took his hand eagerly, a grin spreading across his lips.

“Cool,” Luke grinned.

“Wait,” Michael said once he’d sat back. “Will I even be able to see you? When I’m back to normal, I mean? Calum couldn’t see me and it didn’t seem like anyone could see you in the club. I mean,  _ I _ could see you, but before you were all...”

“Skeleton?” Luke supplied. “It’s called Sight, when you can see us. Normal humans can’t see Reapers at all but when we’re following you you can see sort of like a shadow of us, if you want to call it that. Once your soul’s been reaped you can see us fine, and there’s a handful of humans who are born with Sight and can see our ‘shadows’ and they can see those who have been reaped.”

“Ghosts?” Michael asked.

Luke nodded. “I’m not sure what your Sight will be if we can get you back up there, but I would be willing to bet you’d maintain some level of it. I haven’t exactly reanimated someone before, or spoken to somebody who was.”

“I hope I can still see you,” Michael mused, his blinking slowing down with the weight of his tired eyelids.

“Me too,” Luke smiled fondly, turning off the TV and taking the controller from Michael’s hands to set both of them on the table. “I think it’s time for bed, Mikey. How long have you been up?”

“I dunno,” Michael shrugged. “Too long.”

Luke made a vague gesture to the end of the couch that Michael took to be an instruction for him to lay down, and went searching for an extra blanket. Luke darted into his own room and returned a moment later with a large folded comforter, shaking it out and draping it over Michael’s curled-up body. Michael pulled one of the throw pillows under his head and yawned sleepily, his eyes scrunching up and his fist coming to cover his mouth.

“Sleep well,” Luke offered quietly, flicking off the lights in the apartment so that only the twinkling synthetic stars outside the window shone over them.

“Goodnight,” Michael mumbled, his eyes already closed. “Or goodmorning, I guess. Is it?”

“For you it is,” Luke smiled, retreating into his bedroom. “I’ll see you in our morning.”

Michael gave only a soft hum in response, already closer to sleep than consciousness. Luke closed the door with a faint click and walked backwards until his knees hit the edge of his bed. He jumped a bit in the dim lighting and started to busy himself with getting ready for bed, his mind caught on the boy sleeping in the next room. I was the first time that anybody but Luke had ever slept in the apartment, and the first time anybody had stepped foot inside as a guest. If he really strained his ears Luke could almost hear Michael’s soft breaths as the boy fell deeper and deeper into sleep and Luke couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered by it all. He’d spent almost all of his life on his own and it was strange to suddenly have somebody else’s presence there with him.

When Luke laid down, shroud in darkness, he could see nothing but Michael when he closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of information in the chapter that gets reiterated or added to later on so hopefully if anything is confusing at this point it'll make sense as the story goes. As always, feel free to ask any questions!  
> Right now I'm gonna go back in the studio to rerecord some vocals and stuff for my EP which is weird but cool and exciting. I'm almost finished writing the end of this fic and hopefully when I get home I'll have time to finish!  
> Thank you for reading! <3


	4. The Map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time: Luke explained some of the aspects of the Underworld and potentially has feelings for Michael?

When Luke walked back into the main room of his apartment the next day Michael was still curled up asleep on his couch, letting out small huffs in his sleep. Luke leant over the back of the couch to see Michael’s face, turned away from him with his nose scrunched up and his cheeks sleep-flushed. Luke couldn’t help the fond smile that spread across his face and he craned his neck to examine the boy’s face further. However, with how far he was leaning over and with how clumsy he’d always been, his feet slid out from under him and he came crashing down on top of the sleeping boy with an undignified yelp.

Michael tensed up in surprize, his eyes flying open as he let out a startled shout. His eyes darted to the boy sprawled in his lap and his disgruntled expression became amused when he recognised Luke.

“Sorry!” Luke squeaked, rolling over halfway before sliding to the ground completely. “I’m sorry, it was an accident!”

“Why am I always on the receiving end of your ‘accidents’?” Michael asked, feigning annoyance.

“Sorry,” Luke said again, sitting up. “I was walking by and I... tripped.”

“You tripped?” Michael repeated incredulously. “You tripped over the fucking couch?”

“I’m clumsy,” Luke said defensively, his face flushed a bright red. He scrambled up to a standing position, teetering precariously enough on his feet that Michael felt the need to reach out and steady him with a hand on his wrist. “I, um, I’ve got to go reaping.”

“Right now?” Michael asked, releasing Luke’s wrist and crossing his legs under him.

“Yeah, the sun’s set by now up above so I’ve got to get moving. I’m gonna stop by the reaping school on my way back down later to ask around and try and figure out where to start looking for your soul. I might pop in the library if I can’t find anyone who would answer my questions. Just stay in here while I’m gone so nobody sees you.”

“All day?” Michael whined, slumping back against the cushions.

“Yeah,” Luke instructed. “You can play video games or listen to music or do whatever you want, just don’t leave. I would have Ash come up to entertain you but I’m already asking a lot of him to keep any word of you being here a secret. If he found out what really happened I know we could trust him to keep quiet, but if my dad found out that he knew he’d fire Ashton immediately. It’s better if you stay hidden for now.”

“Okay, I will,” Michael promised.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” Luke told him, offering a quick grin before rushing out the door.

Michael spent the day bored out of his mind and hoping desperately that Luke had found some sort of a lead so that they’d at least have something to do. After hours of video games he had taken to wandering around Luke’s apartment, exploring each crevice and snooping just a bit. He had flicked past every vinyl record in the other boy’s collection, nodding his approval on every album he recognised. Eventually he had ventured into Luke’s bedroom and discovered a beat up and out of tune acoustic guitar half-hidden in a corner behind an upholstered armchair. Michael was quick to extract it and carry it back out to the couch in the main room, bringing it over his knee and dutifully tuning each string by ear until it played correctly. When Luke returned that night it was to the sound of Michael playing loudly and singing softly.

“Hey,” Luke greeted, stepping around to the front of the couch.

“Hey!” Michael smiled, laying his fingers lightly over the strings of the guitar to silence it and leaning it carefully against the side of the couch.

“I think I know where your soul is,” Luke said, perching on the edge of the coffee table, his knees brushing Michael’s.

“Really?” Michael asked excitedly.

“Yeah, I talked to my old teacher and I don’t think she knows why I asked but she seemed to think it was weird but anyway she said that they go to this other section of the Underworld so I went to the library and found a map and I think I know where it is.”

“That’s great!” Michael grinned. “How do we get there?”

“Here,” Luke said, pulling what looked like an old road map from the folds of his black robes. He twisted to lay it out flat on the table next to his leg and smoothed it out with his fingers, his eyes sweeping over the page before settling on one point.

“We’re here,” he said, pointing to the largest city on the map and flicking his eyes up to Michael’s to check that the other boy was following. “I think your soul will be here.”

Luke’s finger slid about halfway across the page, landing in the midst of what would have been a long stretch of highway on a normal map.

“What is it?” Michael asked, squinting down at the map.

“I don’t know,” Luke frowned. “I’d never heard anything about it before but there was a book on souls that mentioned this place as the inspiration for the river Styx from the Greeks. I’m hoping that means it’s some kind of holding place for souls.”

“Any kind of a lead is better than none,” Michael reasoned, trailing his fingers over the map before looking back up to Luke. “When can we leave?”

“We should probably get a few hours of sleep and then head out before the lights come on. It shouldn’t take more than a day or so to get there but we should try and move quickly. I told Ashton I wasn’t feeling well so he’s finding someone to cover my reaping for me. That should buy us a couple of days before anyone comes to check on me and sees the apartment empty.”

“Okay,” Michael nodded, feeling a fluttering excitement growing in his chest at the prospect of the short journey. His life had always been boring and mundane, but perhaps in death he could find adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I probably should have combined this chapter with the last one because they're both mostly filler, but in the next couple chapters a lot starts to happen I promise!  
> Also I got the most recent mixes for my EP and it's pretty chill if you want to check it out. I sing and play bass and ukulele on it and like I'm proud of it.  
> https://spaces.hightail.com/space/03XGC


	5. I'm Not Scared of Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time: Luke found a lead on where Michael's soul may be.

“Luke, I’m tired,” Michael whined after what he was sure had been hours and hours of walking. He slumped against the cold stone wall of the tunnel around them and closed his eyes, a deep pout set across his lips.

“We’ve barely gone three miles,” Luke pointed out, only slowing his pace enough to keep from getting too far ahead. He turned and continued to walk backwards, his hands coming to rest on the straps of the backpack slung over his broad shoulders and a smirk on his face. “The further we walk today the less we have left tomorrow- or the next day if you keep stopping to complain.”

“Can I at least take off the fucking robe?” Michael asked, tugging at the collar of the reaper cloak that Luke had lent him in order to blend in while they snuck out of Luke’s building. “It’s hot as balls.”

“But you look so cute in it,” Luke giggled, a little skip appearing in his step.

“If I don’t take this thing off I will literally die,” Michael deadpanned.

“Fine,” Luke grumbled. “This tunnel seems pretty deserted. Technically though, you’re already dead.”

Michael rolled his eyes but was quick to set down his own pack and to sling the beat up guitar from his shoulders. He had insisted on bringing it with them as entertainment and had regretted it after the first ten minutes of the strap digging into his shoulder, but was of course too proud to admit it. He clumsily yanked the cloak over his head, nearly falling over when it got caught around his neck. Once he was free Michael flung the material to the ground ruefully, much to Luke’s amusement.

“Now you’re gonna have to carry it, you know,” Luke mused, strolling languidly through the cavernous tunnel.

“Fuck,” Michael muttered under his breath, angrily balling up the cloak. “Whatever, fine. Better than wearing the damn thing.”

“They aren’t so bad after a while,” Luke told him, looking down at his own cloak. “I don’t love it but I’ve got to wear it whenever I leave my apartment. My dad makes everyone wear them and he wouldn’t like it if his son was seen without one.”

“Why do you wear them at all?” Michael asked, kicking a loose stone along as he walked.

“Tradition,” Luke explained. “We’ve worn them for forever so I don’t think he’d stop us wearing them now. To be honest though I think he just thinks they look cool.”

Michael chuckled at that, sending the stone at his feet careening ahead of them into the shadows.

“It’s all part of the performance,” Luke continued. “All of the ominous stalking and luring- not even necessary most of the time. Gotta show up looking like death just to get the point across.”

“You mean the...” Michael gestured up to his face with a slightly shell shocked look.

“Creepy skeleton thing?” Luke supplied. “That’s not really a choice though, I guess. Normally humans can’t see us but when we come for them we appear as skeletons - it's the whole shadow thing. Once the human’s dead they can really see us but until then we’re just bones and a robe.”

“You said I might maintain some Sight if I can get back human,” Michael reminded him shyly. “Do you think I’ll go back to seeing you as a skeleton, or will I see  _ you _ ?”

“I dunno, Mikey,” Luke frowned. “I told you, there aren’t exactly many testimonials from people losing their souls then getting them back.”

“I didn’t ‘ _lose_ ’ it,” Michael grumbled petulantly. “You stole it.”

“I’m sorry,” Luke told him sincerely, his eyes full of regret.

“You’ve said.”

For a while the tunnel was filled only with the sounds of their shuffling footsteps as they both became caught up in their own minds. By the time Luke had deemed their distance walked enough for the day their slight tiff had been forgotten by both parties and they each wanted nothing more than to settle down for the night. Luke lead Michael to an enclave in the stone walls where they could tuck in for the night with some semblance of security.

Michael slumped down against the wall, his legs sprawled in front of him and his pack crumpled at his side. His head lulled back to rest against the stone and his eyes slid shut lazily.

“I’m never moving again,” he declared. “I want to drink some fucking water.”

“I told you,” Luke sighed, “you don’t need to drink or eat anymore.”

“Don’t care,” Michael mumbled. “It’s weird not to feel thirsty after all that walking. Unnatural. I want to feel thirsty.”

“Hopefully you’ll feel all kinds of things by this time tomorrow,” Luke said, sliding down the wall to sit beside him. “For now we’ve got to get some rest to recharge and have enough energy for tomorrow.”

Luke began to pull supplies for their makeshift bedding from his pack and Michael busied himself with the beat up guitar, strumming random little riffs and occasionally stopping to re-tune a string.

“How do you do that?” Luke asked in wonder, his cloak spread out beneath him and the ripped knees of his jeans pulled up to his chest.

“I dunno,” Michael shrugged. “Practice?”

“Could you play something for me?” Luke asked, his eyes hopeful.

“Sure,” Michael nodded, gesturing for Luke to come closer after a second of contemplation. “Here, I need you to be my capo.”

“What?” Luke asked, brows furrowing.

Michael grabbed him by the hand and pulled him forward until his forefinger was barred across the fifth fret of the guitar.

“Just hold that there, yeah?” Michael instructed.

Luke nodded eagerly, taking the task very seriously. He shuffled a bit further until one knee was bent against Michael’s back and the other was stretched out parallel to Michael’s own. Luke watched in fascination as Michael’s fingers began to strum and pick at certain strings to create a warm lulling melody. When Michael’s voice rose up to join the music Luke felt a strange melty sort of feeling in his stomach that he wasn’t sure was good or bad.

“ _ I spend a lot of time above water _ ,” Michael sang softly. “ _ In fact, I spend most of my time in my room. Lately that’s made me wonder if I’ve given up on trying to be someone new. _ ”

Luke had been captivated by the movements of Michael’s fingers across the strings at first but as the song wove on he found that we couldn’t stop his eyes from cataloguing every inch of the other boy’s face. He watched Michael’s lowered eyelashes flutter as he flicked his eyes from the shapes his fingers made on the neck of the guitar down to where he plucked different strings at the body of it. Luke noticed the way his eyebrows furrowed and relaxed as he sang, following the timbre of his voice.  He was mesmerized watching the other boy’s lips part and move around each syllable and sound, rounding with O’s and smacking together for P’s.

“ _ I’m not scared of ghosts, I embrace them all as friends because one day I’ll be dead and they will know my name. So I’ve been counting down my life, existing in hours, to see what I have left. If I see 25, I’ll be surprised. If I see 32, I’ll take every letter I wrote to you and bury them alive. If I see 44, well I haven’t thought that far... _ ”

On the last word Michael strummed one last note on the guitar and sat back against the stone wall, trapping Luke’s knee behind him. He raised his eyes to see Luke staring at him in wonder.

“You can, um- you don’t need to hold it, still,” Michael said, gently pulling Luke’s hand from where he still had his fingers wrapped around the neck of the guitar in a makeshift capo.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Luke asked, never looking down to where Michael still held his fingers in his own smaller ones.

“Sure, I guess,” Michael chuckled. “It takes a while, though, so not all in one night. Someday.”

“Someday,” Luke nodded, pleased by Michael’s promise. “I’ve always wanted to learn but Reapers don’t play music.”

“At all?”

“No,” Luke shook his head. “They don’t listen to it or anything. I’ve only got all my records from sneaking them in my room over the years. If my dad found out he’d hate it.”

“How can you survive without music?” Michael frowned.

“Right?” Luke asked emphatically. “All we’re supposed to do is work, and reap, and lurk and be serious and I don’t want to do all that!”

“Then why do you do it?” Michael asked.

“I dunno,” Luke shrugged. “I figure maybe eventually I could make my dad proud or something. I don’t think he’d ever really be satisfied with me for a son, though.”

“Luke, don’t say that,” Michael pleaded, squeezing the fingers that were still tangled in his own.

Luke was silent for a moment and Michael worried that he’d done something wrong, watching a faint blush spread up Luke’s neck and over his cheeks.

“Hey Mikey?” Luke asked softly.

“Yeah?” Michael asked.

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Um, I,” Michael stuttered, surprised by Luke’s shyly spoken question. “I dunno. Not really.”

“What about your friends? What about Caw- Cuh-?”

“Calum?” Michael supplied and Luke nodded. Michael smiled fondly, “Cal’s been in love lots of times. I think he falls in love at least a little bit with everyone he meets. He’s one of those people.”

“Has he told you what it’s like?” Luke asked.

“I guess, yeah,” Michael shrugged.

“Could you tell me, please?” Luke asked, a slight desperation in his eyes.

“Um, okay,” Michael started. “So, like, at first he’ll start talking about them and their looks, mention some hot girl he met that day or something, then he starts noticing all these little things about them that he’s got catalogued somewhere in his head that he’s got to list out to me later, and then it’s like he finds every single thing they do completely endearing and he won’t shut up about them. Every time he has to be away from them he spends the entire time complaining to me about it and how he just wants to be close to them, like just their presence will make him feel okay. It’s like they become some kind of safe place for him and he doesn’t want to leave. He’d do anything for them, too, just wants to give them the world. Even when he dates someone and they break up he never has bad blood towards them - it’s like he keeps some of that devotion for them even if the feelings aren’t romantic anymore. He’s probably the only person I’ve ever met who can actually stay friends with his exes, I swear. It’s like- hey, are you okay?”

Michael broke off when he saw the slight glassy sheen to Luke’s eyes and the sad, wistful expression on his face.

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, voice thick. “Yeah, I just- it sounds nice.”

“Have you ever...?”

“No, no,” Luke shook his head fiercely. “That- it’s not a reaper thing. They don’t... We don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” Michael asked.

“Love.”

Luke’s voice cracked when he said the word and Michael felt his heart break a little bit at the despondent look on the other boy’s face.

“You need a soul to love. Reapers just take those.”

“Luke,” Michael whispered sadly, his grip on Luke’s hand tightening.

“I’m tired,” Luke said, clearing his throat. “Can we go to sleep now, please?”

“Okay,” Michael nodded, spreading his own cloak out beside Luke’s and waiting for the other boy to lay down before extinguishing the small lantern they’d brought with them for after the lights of the tunnel dimmed. “Good night, Lu.”

“Good night,” Luke whispered back into the darkness.

_ Why can’t I be normal? _ he thought, his eyes clenched tightly shut.  _ Why do I always have to want more? I’m not supposed to  _ want _ all that stuff. I’m a reaper, I can’t have it. But,  _ he frowned, biting his lip,  _ it sounds so nice. _

The truth was that Luke desperately wanted everything that Michael had described, and he wanted nothing more than to have it with the boy sleeping beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael sings "Nick Kwas Christmas Party" by Sorority Noise and I pretty much just had the acoustic version of it playing on repeat the entire time I wrote this chapter.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ofPP6fQCk84


	6. The River Styx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time: Michael and Luke started their journey to Michael's soul, Michael sang Sorority Noise and Luke wants to feel love.

They had been walking for just over half of the day when a light buzzing rang through the air. Michael sent Luke a puzzled look when the blond boy stopped and hiked up his cloak, reaching into the pocket of his jeans.

“What are you doing?” Michael asked.

“My phone,” Luke explained, finally pulling a sleek cellphone from under his cloak.

“You have a cellphone?” Michael raised his eyebrows incredulously.

“Everyone has a cellphone, Michael,” Luke rolled his eyes. “This isn’t the sixteenth century.”

Look looked down at the still vibrating phone and seemed to visibly pale. The young reaper swallowed and pressed his finger to the screen, lifting it to his ear and asking a tentative “Hello?”

“Where the devil are you?” came the stern reply from his father.

“I’m feeling ill,” Luke said, the nervousness in his voice making the claim sound true. “I asked Ashton to find someone to cover my reaps for the night.”

“I should have known this would happen,” his father growled. “You can’t even handle two days on the job without giving up.”

“I’m not giving up!” Luke protested weakly. “I’m just sick.”

“You’re making other people do your job for you,” his dad continued. “I would have hoped I’d raised you better than that but apparently I was wrong. You’ve got to learn to take responsibility, Luke. You can’t just hide away in your room because working was too hard on your delicate system.”

“I can't help it if I get sick sometimes, dad,” Luke replied, crossing his free arm over his chest. 

“I'm sorry you were feeling peaky,” his father said condescendingly, “but you've got a job.”

“I know,” Luke murmured, Leaning against the wall of the tunnel and frowning. “I’m sorry.”

Michael, having gotten the gist of the conversation and feeling concerned, came to stand beside the other boy, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and overhearing the muttered “Such a disappointment” through the earpiece of Luke’s phone.

“I’m sorry,” Luke said again, softly. Michael could hear the light sound of the call ending and lightly pulled the phone away from where Luke still had it clutched against his ear.

“Luke?” Michael whispered, hating the broken look on the other boy’s face. Luke’s blue eyes flicked up to meet Michael’s green for just a moment before a glassy sheen spread over them and he returned his gaze to the ground, his trembling lip held fast between his teeth. “Luke, c’mon. He didn’t mean it.”

“He did,” Luke shook his head sadly, rubbing the back of his hand harshly against his nose. “He always means it.”

“Then he’s an idiot,” Michael argued, crowding Luke in against the stone wall and rubbing his thumb in circles against his shoulder.

“He’s right,” Luke muttered, staring hard at Michael’s chest to avoid his eyes. “I  _ am _ a disappointment.”

When Luke’s body was wracked by a broken sob Michael slid his arms around the shaking boy and pulled him into his chest, pressing the blond’s face into the crook of his neck. “You’re not. You aren’t a disappointment - not to me.”

“I killed you,” Luke sniffled.

“Eh,” Michael shrugged. “It was bound to happen some day. If it wasn’t you, Calum would have done it himself before long.”

Luke smiled despite himself, raising his hand between their bodies to wipe his nose on the back of his sleeve.

“I’m sure it’ll do wonders for my complexion,” Michael continued. “Who needs a juice cleanse when you can cleanse the whole soul? You’re doing me a favor, really.”

“Shut up,” Luke said through a weak smile, finally meeting Michael’s eyes.

“Never,” Michael promised, lifting one hand to the side of Luke’s face and wiping away his tears with his thumb. “You good?”

“As ever,” Luke shrugged.

“C’mon,” Michael pulled back, keeping one arm over Luke’s shoulders. “Let’s go get my soul back so you can get on with your life and be the greatest damn reaper the underworld has ever seen.”

Luke hid a still slightly watery grin in Michael’s shoulder and whispered “Thanks” into the fabric of his t-shirt.

 

Michael knew that up above the sun was just rising because the fluorescent lights strung throughout the tunnel were beginning to dim. Along the last stretch of stone Luke had instructed him to feel along the edges to find the hidden break in the wall. After trailing their arms over the stone for about twenty feet their hands were sliding seemingly through the wall and they knew they had found the place. They ducked through, Michael right behind Luke, and found themselves in what looked like the kind of dive bar that a motorcycle gang would use to play pool and break glasses - or skulls, if the mood struck them.

“What is this place?” Luke asked breathlessly, stepping further into the room.

“The River Styx,” replied an older woman from behind the bar, surprising both of the boys who hadn’t seen her upon entering. She had gray, frizzled hair and a raspy voice, along with an eyepatch strung over her right eye.

“Like, the river of souls one?” Luke asked excitedly, coming to lean against the bar across from her, letting his backpack down and setting it on the floor.

“River a’ booze, mainly,” the woman laughed, her eyes glinting.

“Oh,” Luke said, deflating. He looked at Michael with big, sad eyes.

“If yer lookin’ fer souls though, you came to the right place,” she told them, making Luke’s deflated form brighten up immediately.

“Really?” Luke asked, grinning. “Where are they? How are they stored? How do we get to them?”

“Slow down kid,” she reprimanded, flicking her bar rag at him. “Look, you gotta buy something first.”

Luke frowned but turned to Michael so that the two could pool what little money they had.

“What will... Four dollars and twelve cents get us?” Michael asked, putting the money on the bar and looking at the woman expectantly. She shrugged, pocketing it and sliding a mug of beer towards them along with a small bucket filled with half-eaten peanuts.

“Enjoy,” she said with a small flourish.

Michael lifted the glass to his lips, cringing slightly at the taste but keeping it there for a few gulps of beer. When he pulled it away he offered it to Luke who had been watching him curiously. Luke chewed on his lip for a moment before accepting the drink and bringing it to his lips, tilting back the glass and choking when he tried to swallow the beer.

Michael clapped him on the back but laughed as Luke coughed, his face riddled with distaste.

“That’s awful!” Luke sputtered. “Why would anybody drink that stuff?”

“‘S not usually fer the taste,” the barlady offered, chuckling along with Michael.

“Can you please just tell us where the souls are now?” Luke asked, crossing his arms over his chest, a small pout on his face.

“Sure, hun,” she simpered, pointing her thumb to a doorway behind the bar. “Go down that hallway and through the door on the end.”

Luke jumped up excitedly, grabbing Michael’s hand and pulling him around the bar.

“Thank you,” Luke tilted his head to read the nametag on her apron, “Sharon!”

“Anytime, kid,” she said, turning back to her bar.

Luke raced Michael down the hall, flying across the space and bursting through the door at the end of the hall before stopping dead in his tracks. Michael stood open mouthed beside him, staring at their new surroundings.

The door had lead them to a huge cavernous room filled to the brim with writhing bodies, colored smoke and pulsating music. Black glistening walls seemed to lead up to the night sky with sparkling pin points stretching out miles above their heads. The people were dressed scantily in shining black leathers, velvets and silks, bold metallics and deep, rich purples and blues melding together. They seemed to drip into each other, dancing and drinking and exhaling smoke in shades of lavender, baby blue, acidic green and baby pink. In their glasses swirled liquid gold that clung to their lips and filled their eyes with a warm light, their laughing and moaning mouths hung open and filled with sharp, glistening teeth.

Michael looked to Luke at his side and saw the reaper transfixed by the scene in front of him, his eyes curious and yearning. Luke stepped forward, pulled in by the gravity of the decadence before them, his hand still clutching Michael’s. The pair were swallowed up by clouds of smoke and surrounded by bodies, held on every side by arms and legs and chests and hips, pressed up against them and moving to the beat of the music that seemed to radiate from within their own chests, quickening with their heartbeats. The boys were anchored only by their grip on each other’s hand.

Luke let his head fall back, his neck stretched limply and his body held up solely by the bodies around his. He felt Michael release his hand but instantly there was a familiar pair of hands holding his hips and he felt a warm torso against his back. He tilted his head to rest against Michael’s shoulder and let himself get lost in the feeling and the music for what could have been hours or days, he couldn’t be sure.

Eventually Michael snaked his arms fully around Luke’s waist and tugged him back out of the throngs of people, much to the dismay of the young reaper.

“C’mon, Luke,” Michael shouted in his ear in order to be heard over the music. “We’ve got to find the souls.”

Luke grumbled a bit but nodded, letting his hand fall back to Michael’s and following him towards the back of the club.

They crept along the outskirts of the room until they came to the giant platform set up as a DJ booth where a group of girls stood above the masses to dance madly. One girl wearing large butterfly wings on her back and heaps of glitter on her cheekbones noticed them and leapt down to stand before them, a kind smile on her face.

“Are you lost?” she asked, her voice reaching their ears even without her shouting. Both boys nodded and she beckoned them to follow her, walking away purposefully, her long auburn hair fluttering behind her. She lead them to an alcove where the music seemed to dim. “I was wondering when you two would be arriving.”

“Can you help us?” Luke asked, his fingers tightening around Michael’s. “We’re trying to find-”

“His soul,” the girl finished for him, giggling musically. “Of course, right through here.”

She pulled back a thick velvet curtain and ushered them into another room. When she dropped the curtain back into place all sound from the music outside was cut off and they were left alone in a huge room filled with silvery white filing cabinets. Luke tilted back his head to look up at the miles-high stretch of drawered cabinets that went up the towering walls.

“How will we ever find it in here?” Michael wondered, wide-eyed.

“We could check the index, to start with,” Luke replied wryly, leading him to a huge book on a desk against the wall. Luke struggled to get the book open with the weight of so many pages but managed to get it open to the C’s, running his finger down the page in search of “Clifford.”

After one run through when he got to the Co’s, Luke started again at the top of the page and continued searching until he slumped back with a huff of defeat.

“I can’t find it,” he groaned frustratedly. “I don’t get it, it’s got to be in here! It has to be!”

Michael looked around, desperately looking for some sort of an answer. Down at the other side of the room he saw a similar desk holding a slightly thinner book and he started towards it.

“Michael,” Luke said, sitting down on the edge of the first desk. “It wouldn’t be in there.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to check,” Michael shrugged, flipping the pages of the book and trailing his eyes over the lists of names and numbers before settling on one four pages in.

_ Clifford, Michael G...............78643 _

“Luke,” he called, his voice laced with disbelief. “I found it!”

“What?” Luke said, standing up in surprise. “But- But, it-”

“C’mon, help me find... ‘78643’!” Michael said excitedly, looking over the drawers in front of him trying to find the right combination of numbers.

“But Michael, that book’s for-”

“ _ Luke _ ,” Michael said, “c’mon! Here’s 78649, it’s gotta be close!”

Michael ran his fingers over the drawers until he found the one with the number he had found next to his name, pulling it open excitedly. Inside there was a wooden box the size of a shoebox with a small plaque screwed into the top, “Michael G. Clifford” inscribed in the metal.

“Luke, look!” he said. “Here it is!”

Michael lifted the box out of the drawer but paused when he saw that there was a second box behind his.

“Luke?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “What’s the other box for?”

“Michael,” Luke said sadly, fiddling with his fingers. “The souls filed in this section are different from the other ones.”

“How come?” Michael asked, Luke’s expression making him unsure of if he truly wanted to know why.

“Souls are filed in drawers with their soulmates,” Luke explained. “But only after the owner of each soul has died. The souls in this section belong to soulmates who died before they met each other.”

Michael pulled the second box forward and ran his fingers over it, narrowing his eyes when he read the inscription on the top.

“Luke,” he started, a small smile playing at his lips.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” Luke continued. “First I kill you and now you find out you’ll never meet your soulmate. I’m the worst-”

“Luke!” Michael interrupted.

“What?” Luke frowned, confused by Michael’s hopeful expression.

“What’s your last name?”

“Hemmings,” Luke said, shaking his head. “Why does it matter?”

“Come look at the box,” Michael instructed, stepping away from the drawer but keeping his hand on the edge of it protectively. Luke looked confused but stepped forward, peering into the box and reading the name inscribed across the top over and over without believing it.

_ Luke R. Hemmings _

“Michael,” Luke whispered, still staring hard at the box. “Does that...?”

“Yeah,” Michael nodded, perching his own box precariously on the outer corner of the drawer and taking Luke’s hands in his. “That’s your box. You’ve got a soul in there.”

“But it’s-”

“It’s in there with mine,” Michael continued, a grin still pulling at his lips.

“But I’m a Reaper,” Luke shook his head. “We don’t have souls. We don’t have soulmates. We don’t-”

“ _ Luke _ ,” Michael said, shifting forward. “Who cares? Who cares what Reapers do and don’t do? All I care about is  _ you _ and what  _ you _ want to do.”

“I...” Luke trailed off, his confused eyes meeting Michael’s sure gaze and knowing only that he wanted the boy in front of him, more than he’d wanted anything ever before.

“Luke,” Michael whispered again, like it was the only word he could remember how to say in that moment. He released Luke’s hands to raise his own, wanting to hold the blond closer, but when he lifted his hands his elbow brushed against something, knocking it to the floor. He looked down just in time to see the small wooden box crash against the hard tiled floors, bursting open in an explosion of light.

“Michael!” Luke screamed as everything went white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is pretty much the chapter when things finally happen except like everything happens at once. The next chapter is shorter and basically just wraps everything up but I might write an epilogue to go after that if anyone wants one? I don't know, you can let me know if that's something you'd want.  
> Thank you! <3  
> Also, it's my birthday tomorrow and I turn 18 and that's super weird because I bought 13 Barbies last month and I feel like I shouldn't be allowed to be a legal adult. Like, that's a bad idea.


	7. I'm Glad You're Such a Shitty Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time: Luke's dad was a dick, they ended up in Satan's nightclub and found Michael's soul, which was filed with Luke's which means they're soulmates. Michael accidentally knocked over his soul-box and broke it and "everything went white."

When Michael opened his eyes he felt stiff and groggy, as though he’d just slept for days without waking or moving an inch. He sat up, wrinkling his nose at the stale scent around him and the grimy feeling that seemed to cover him from head to toe. He blinked around and took in the dingy alley and the cool breeze that blew through it, making him shiver. He looked down at his trembling fingers and a large grin spreading over his face when he realized that the cold was around him, no longer radiating from within him.

Michael leapt to his feet, nearly toppling over due to the disuse of his legs, and sprinted home, relishing in the cold air that licked his cheeks and danced in his lungs. By the time he arrived at his and Calum’s apartment his cheeks were stained pink and his eyes were sparkling. He dug his keys out of his pocket and rushed to unlock the door and fling it open, bursting into the solemn apartment and relishing in the warm familiar feeling of it all.

“Michael?” came a soft voice, and he turned to see Calum peeking his head out of his bedroom door.

“Cal!” Michael breathed, both boys charging forward and collapsing into each other's arms. “Cal, I missed you so much!”

“I thought you were dead!” Calum sobbed, clutching Michael as tightly as he could.

“I’m fine,” Michael soothed. “I’m back now, it’s okay.”

After many long minutes they had both calmed down enough to move to the couch, each clutching a mug of warm tea and smiling at each other in relief.

“Where were you?” Calum asked. “You were gone for four days, Michael.”

“You’re not going to believe me,” Michael shook his head. “It’ll sound crazy.”

“Michael,” Calum argued. “I’ve spent the past four days trying to think of what could possibly have happened to you. By now I’m sure anything you say would make more sense than my theories - the last one had something to do with alien sex trafficking on Mars.”

Michael sighed, debating for a moment how to start his explanation before he dove into the night at the club and waking up in the alley, confused and cold, to meeting Luke and being brought into his world. Calum just listened, occasionally asking a question or telling Michael to slow down but giving no reaction and Michael continued on about Luke’s father and the Underworld night club and about finding his soul filed with Luke’s. After what felt like hours he was finally done, looking cautiously at Calum, who seemed to still be letting it all sink in.

“I’m not sure if you fell down and hit your head or if you had some really bad trip,” Calum said at last, “but I feel like I kind of believe you.”

“Really?” Michael asked hopefully.

“It’s a little more interesting than alien abduction,” Calum shrugged. “At least you got to meet your soulmate.”

Michael couldn’t help the exhausted laughter that seeped out of him, his head lulling back against the couch and his eyes sliding shut.

“I’ll probably never see him again, though,” Michael shook his head ruefully.

“Seriously?” Calum rolled his eyes. “You’re in love with him. The kid’s obviously in love with you - you’re fucking soulmates. I swear to god if he’s not wandering through the streets right now wondering where you are...”

“But-”

“Nope,” Calum shook his head. “You better get your ass back to your fucking little alley of love so you can find your little grim reaper boyfriend and then you’re gonna bring him back here so I can yell at you two for making out all over my apartment and then be the best man at your wedding.”

“But Cal,” Michael argued. “I just got back! Don’t you want to-”  
“Yes, you’re back and you’re okay. I’m very glad you’re back but I don’t think the odds of you getting accidentally killed twice in one week are very high so I’m gonna make you go back out there and then I’ll cuddle the shit out of you when you get back - and by then hopefully you’ll have someone else to help with the cuddling situation. Okay, asshole?”

“Okay,” Michael mumbled, wrapping Calum in a quick but tight hug, squeezing him hard before heading back out the door. “Thanks, Cal.”

 

When Michael stepped into the alley he spent a few nervous moments worrying that Luke wouldn’t be there and that he would have to return to the apartment alone. He walked cautiously towards the end of the alley, stopping when he saw the lump of a figure sitting in the shadows against the wall.

“Luke?” he asked softly, his chest filling with hope.

“Mikey?” Luke sniffled, his head raising from where it had been resting on his knees. Michael rushed forward, quickly pulling Luke’s hands from where they were wrapped around his legs and hauling him to his feet. Luke was quick to throw his arms around Michael’s neck, burying his face in the crook of the older boy’s neck. Michael responded by wrapping his own arms securely around the Reaper, pressing his nose against the boy’s hair.

“I can see you,” Michael said after a moment, his voice full of wonder. “I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to.”

“Of course you can see me,” Luke told him, pulling back. “I’ve got a soul now! I’m just like you, all mortal and stuff.”

“Really?” Michael asked, his eyes wide. “You’re really mortal? What about your dad, and your job, and-?”

“I don’t care,” Luke shook his head. “I never wanted any of that. I want this. I want  _ you _ .”

“Well good,” Michael nodded. “I want you too.”

“Good,” Luke agreed. “Otherwise this could have gotten awkward, with my becoming human for you and all. Would have been a little embarrassing to be stuck all alone and probably homeless just because I misread absolutely every sign imaginable.”

“Shut up, Luke,” Michael said fondly, rolling his eyes and tucking the boy safely back against his chest. “Let’s go home and see how much PDA Calum can take before he barricades himself in his room for the rest of his life.”

“I want to at least meet him before you start sucking off my face,” Luke said, falling into stride with the older boy’s arm around his shoulders. “I don’t want him thinking I’m that kind of boy.”

Michael snorted, tightening his grip and brushing a soft kiss on the side of Luke’s head. “God, you’re so  _ lame _ . I’m glad you’re such a shitty reaper.”

“How come?” Luke asked, tilting his head.

“Because you stole my soul, but you also stole my heart.”

Luke’s eyes went big and his lips turned up into a soft smile as he ducked down to peck a sweet kiss against Michael’s lips. When he pulled back his face split into an evil grin and he pulled out of Michael’s arms.

“You’re such a  _ fucking sap _ !” he shouted gleefully, turning and running down the street in the vague direction of Michael’s apartment. Michael let out loud pangs of laughter as he took off after him, shaking his head and letting the love he felt for the other boy fill him to the brim. Hours later when they were curled up in each other’s arms, neither would want to go to sleep for fear of missing even a moment in each other’s presence. It would be only after whispered ‘I love you’s and a handful of sleepy kisses that they’d finally fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's read this story and to those who have commented or left kudos! You guys are all so sweet and lovely and I love you all!  
> This is the last chapter of this story but I'd like to write an epilogue to follow it. I just don't really know what all to put in it, so let me know what you'd like to see in it and I'll try and put whatever your guys want. Like, except for smut. I'm actually awful at smut and it would literally just be:  
> "Jee wiz, Luke, this is so sensual!" Michael exclaimed.  
> "This is the most sensual thing I've ever done," Luke replied. He winked and Michael swooned.  
> And then they touched each other's butts.


	8. Epilogue

“You two are so gross,” Calum muttered, feigning annoyance but failing to hide his fond smile. Michael flipped him off behind Luke’s head, not moving away from where he had his forehead resting against the blond boy’s. Luke giggled at something Michael had whispered and Calum pretended to gag, knocking back another shot and looking around the club for something to distract him from his two best friends beside him. The music faded into the next song and Luke straightened up in his seat at the sound of a familiar beat.

“Mikey,” he said, gripping his boyfriend’s hand excitedly. “I love this song! Can we dance, please?”

“Of course,” Michael grinned, making Calum roll his eyes when he brushed his nose sweetly against Luke’s before pulling him to his feet.

“Gross,” Calum said again, shaking his head and watching the couple fondly as they made their way to the dance floor. For all of his grimaces and playful jabs, he really did love both Michael and Luke and he had loved watching their relationship grow since Michael had brought Luke home. The blond fit perfectly in both of their lives and Calum was glad to see Michael so happy in love. He always grinned when he came home from work to see the two of them fast asleep on the couch, either Luke draped completely over Michael or Michael with his head pillowed in Luke’s lap while the other boy slumped over, his forehead resting on Michael’s hip and his fingers still tangled in Michael's messy hair. Sometime’s Calum would wake them up and shoo them off to bed but other times they’d be too precious to wake and he’d simply spread a blanket over them both, pressing half-sarcastic kisses on each of their foreheads and whispering a fond “goodnight.”

Michael swung his and Luke’s joined hands between them and let the other boy lead their movements, following his carefree hops and copying the little kicks he did with his feet. Luke tilted his head back and laughed, more for the feel of it than because anything was particularly funny. He felt full of life and full of love and he needed to let some of it out or else he very well might have exploded with it. He slipped his fingers from Michael's to loop them around the slightly shorter boy’s neck, pulling him close without stopping his jumping in place. Michael wrapped his arms around Luke’s waist and kept jumping as well, trying his best to match Luke’s timing to that they were jumping together, tangled up in the middle of the dance floor. Their knees knocked together and they kept landing on each other’s toes, hitting their chins on each other’s shoulders a few times as well, but neither cared. Their hearts raced where they were pressed against each other and their cheeks were each flushed, their faces glistening from the heat of the club and from their dancing.

“Love you,” Luke sighed softly into Michael’s ear later on once the music had slowed and they had relaxed into a leisurely swaying embrace.

“Love you too,” Michael replied instantly, turning his face to press his lips to the side of Luke’s head. Luke hummed contentedly, nuzzling further into Michael’s neck. Calum watched them from across the room, feeling like a parent watching their child’s first dance at their wedding, only doubled. He knew it would be another night of dragging the couple out of the club, hearing Luke whine about wanting 2am pizza and watching Michael lean in to whisper too-loud I love you’s in between kisses with mouths full of pizza. Calum knew he’d groan and complain about how gross they each were and he knew that there was no way he’d rather spend a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who's read this story. Sorry that this is so short and rushed but I leave for camp for three weeks tomorrow morning so I wanted to at least get something out before then. I hope you liked this little snippet of their lives after getting Michael's soul back :)  
> Thank you! <3 <3 <3  
> If you liked this story and you want to chat or anything my tumblr is moz-direction


End file.
